Surprise
by Fading Grace
Summary: In which Kyouya plans a surprise party and happy endings are sought. KyouTama, TamaHaru, Twins, HikaHaru, obligatory MoriHunny.
1. In

This chapter is short, compared to what I'm used to writing as far as chapters go. But, there will be more following. Warnings include: various non-heterosexual pairings, vague humor, Kyouya-style cynicism, and cute half-French blonde kids.

* * *

Kyouya set his notebook on his desk and regarded it as a captain regarded a private who stepped out of line.

As the teacher droned on about the evils of English in passive voice, Kyouya berated the terrified notebook. How dare it fail him now?

The breeze from the air conditioner ruffled it helplessly. No matter how hard he glared at it, the pages would become no less full.

Kyouya was out of paper. The greatest villainy was, obviously, not beyond Evil's daring.

Tamaki was sitting next to him, absently clicking his ballpoint pen against the surface of his desk. His own notebook was lying before him, clean and innocent.

Kyouya looked from the virgin paper to his friend's face. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and took out the Official Ouran Host Club Keychain, which included the miniature likenesses of each member and was now available for order at the Club's website. His arm reached across the chasm that lay between their desks, and then brought the chain before Tamaki's eyes. Tamaki focused on it, and followed the dancing figures obediently.

Kyouya's other hand was around the spine of Tamaki's notebook when the teacher said, "Ootori-kun, will you please correct the sentence I have written on the board?"

Then all eyes were fixed on him, and the teacher blinked, realizing too late that his top student was not paying attention. In fact, he appeared to be entertaining the second-top student with a child's toy.

Kyouya looked at the board for a moment, careful to keep the chain jingling. Studiously, he rattled off, "Where you have written, 'The prisoner was locked in the jail,' the passive voice is expressed in 'was locked'. To correct it, write 'The state locked the prisoner in jail,' or use another acceptable noun."

The class was silent, besides the persistent jingling of the keychain and, now, Tamaki's entertained little giggles.

After a long moment, the teacher decided that he liked his salary better than his sanity and filed the image under 'to be repressed'. He looked back at his book. "Correct. That's… correct, Ootori-san."

Kyouya straightened in his seat, bringing Tamaki's notebook with him. Without the keychain, Tamaki blinked and then settled back into the bored-but-almost-listening Class Mode.

Notebook secured. Mission accomplished.

* * *

The club was bustling. It was moments such as these, when the room was full of a mostly-controlled chaos, that Kyouya liked best. He knew that the details were perfect, and all of the definable variables had been defined. From here on out, it was up to the hosts to do their part. Kyouya's performance was finished.

Haruhi appeared unobtrusively at his side and observed, "Everyone else sure is busy today, Kyouya-sempai."

Kyouya smiled at her with neutrality. "You had fewer requests than normal, Haruhi-kun."

She shrugged. "I don't mind. It's sort of fun to watch everyone hard at work, since I normally don't get to. Is there any errand that you need done, or something?"

"No. I'm content. Thank you for offering." He looked down at his (Tamaki's) notebook and quickly jotted down another line of characters.

Haruhi wasn't one to look over shoulders. She asked, "What are you working on? I thought that you were done."

Kyouya looked over at her, sizing her up. There was no risk in telling her, and the potential for gain. "In approximately four weeks' time, Tamaki will have a birthday. I am planning a celebration."

Haruhi blinked her large eyes, and asked, "And the fact that Tamaki-sempai hasn't been singing it from the roofs means that he doesn't know, right?"

"I compliment you on your perspicacity," Kyouya acknowledged.

"Who's invited?" she persisted.

Kyouya blinked down at her. "Everyone, of course."

"The girls, too?"

"Ah. No."

Her eyes turned forward. "Why not?"

"You and Tamaki are the only two members of the club who do not seem to affect a different persona in the company of clients. It would be more intimate and comfortable without their presence."

Haruhi pushed her hair behind her ear absentmindedly, and then said, "Well, how can I help?"

Kyouya mentally envisioned the page in his other notebook – it was so troublesome, changing them out, because information became less accessible – upon which he had written the half-finalized list of assignments. Mori would assist in heavy lifting or rearrangement of furniture in decorating. Hunny, local connoisseur of foods and desserts, would put together a list of proposed dishes. The twins, sons of a designer, would be in charge of the aesthetic portion of decorating. He would be shifting around meetings, appointments, and scheduling conflicts, as well as overseeing the budget and final details overall.

Last year, this was all of the resources as his disposable. Could there be room for, as it were, another cook in the kitchen?

For Haruhi, heavy lifting was out of the question. If placed in control of decorations, she might accidentally set something on fire, or something equally unhelpful. Hunny was authoritative and somewhat vicious about foodstuffs, and it could be quite a shock to the uninitiated.

He might need to create a new department entirely.

"Entertain Tamaki to prevent him from suspecting anything. Or, as is more likely, from allowing his curiosity to spoil anything unduly."

"I can do that. Only while everyone else is off in some secret meeting, though, right?"

"Logically."

"I can do that."

"I have confidence in you."

"Kyouya-sempai?"

"Yes?"

"Is this just for fun?"

Kyouya looked at her oddly. "No. It is Club business."

"But no clients are invited?" She smiled. "How does this benefit the Club? Or you, come to think of it?"

Kyouya didn't answer. His pen jotted down another company that had come to mind that could offer a favorable deal on catering.

Haruhi said, "A friend that you think about during school, work, and play. You are very lucky, Kyouya-sempai."

As she walked away, seeing a girl's teacup run dry, Kyouya wrote another company's name. He would need to begin research on them soon.

The new department may have been a poor, in-the-moment decision.

* * *

Kyouya decided that Tamaki was an idiot.

The first time he called a meeting for confirming assignments, he simply had to warn Haruhi five minutes in advance.

In that five minutes, the others ended their commissions and herded the girls out through the post-bishounen-haze. Tamaki noticed it, and was about to ask why. He already wore the question in every feature.

In that same five minutes, Haruhi changed into a long, purple-and-white skirt and long-sleeved shirt that fell off of her shoulders. Hikaru and Kaoru had had it prepared for just such a time. They also gave her a demure touch of blush and lipstick, but not eyeliner, since it reportedly irritated her eyes with the contacts in already.

She emerged with a blank look and determination. Tamaki never asked his question.

Kyouya spent a few seconds too long watching Tamaki chase after her like a lonely puppy.

The new department was fulfilling its purpose. As well as could be expected, of course.

Its overall efficiency would remain to be seen.


	2. Which

_Twenty-five days to zero hour. _

Kyouya blinked down at the page. It was written in his handwriting, well trained to be both minimal and elegant.

The only mildly troubling detail was that he did not, per say, remember writing it.

He examined his pen, just in case it was trying to outwit him.

After ascertaining that the pen was innocent of all crimes, Kyouya pushed his glasses up to their customary place on the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he had been daydreaming?

Absurd. Ootori Kyouya did not daydream.

Someone obtrusively cleared their throat unobtrusively.

Kyouya looked up from his notebook and faced the Hitachiins. They were both looking down at him, one eyebrow raised, in identical expressions of impatience.

Kyouya asked, "May I help you?"

One of them said, "As much as we enjoy having Tamaki try to teach Haruhi how to fly a kite…"

The other finished the sentence, "…Can we get this meeting over with?"

They both droned pointedly, "Or are you going to space out some more?"

Kyouya ignored the ridiculous insinuation. Instead, he stood up from his chair and said, "Have any of you run into problems?"

The Hitachiins both waved one hand, dismissing the question. "We're going to go with purple and pastel blue as a general color scheme, but we're working on an exact pattern still."

Mori didn't speak, as his duties would come at the end of this race. Hunny was the reason that Mori was included in these meetings; according to Hunny, none of the chairs were the right blend of softness and firmness to be comfortable.

Bouncing on Mori's knee, the little blonde said excitedly, "I'm not sure if I should really have everything be a French-style yummy or if I could maybe mix in some Japanese-style cakes with strawberries – do you know if Tama-chan likes strawberries? – Maybe he likes raspberries, raspberries are yummy on top of mousses, and maybe he wouldn't be against some cheesecake? Raspberries are good on cheesecake. Does Tama-chan really like raspberries, Kyou-chan?"

Mori was looking out the window, where Tamaki and Haruhi were running back and forth with a kite. Tamaki was apparently showing his charge the correct way to flap her arms in order to give the kite more of an advantage when leaving the ground.

Hunny finished his breathless ramble with, "So I just wish that I knew exactly what Tama-chan likes, since it's his birthday."

Kyouya smiled his approval and encouragement with practiced ease. It fit oddly, as though he had stood in front of a mirror and exercised the muscles until they automatically pulled into a perfectly false imitation. "The idea of French confectionaries is very good, Hunny. I'm sure that Tamaki will enjoy a visit to his native tastes. To my knowledge, his favorite dish is a crèmet, French crème shaped as a heart. Perhaps you could look into that?"

Hunny saluted with stout valor, using the hand that held his stuffed rabbit and thumping himself in the face. There followed a fast fight, break up, and reunion during which Bunbun was temporarily left on the floor as he had landed.

The twins were leaning out the window. "So we're finished? Because I think Haruhi is getting tired of running back and forth."

The one who hadn't spoken turned to his brother. "Can you believe how long it took her to learn that stupid line?"

"Not to mention get all the inflections right."

"I still think that we can do a girl voice better than she can."

As if on a cue, they recited, "Tamaki-sempai, I was hoping that we could fly a kite today. In my commoner neighborhood, there isn't enough space, so I don't know how. That field down there is perfect, though…" Their voices were high and nasal, nailing the breathless tone that clients used to speak with Tamaki.

Kyouya finished putting two ruler-straight lines through the insidious phrase still marring the white of the paper. Offhandedly, he remarked, "Is that what she said? It sounded more like 'Tamaki-sempai, the twins just gave me a kite and I don't know what to do with it.'"

"You don't know how to deliver lines at all, Kyouya. You sounded like you were giving a proclamation or something."

"Ah, good. So did she, I believe."

One of them laughed into his hand. The other said, "I guess next time we'll have to dress Kaoru up as a girl and get _him_ to say it right."

Kaoru stopped laughing and kept his smile through sheer determination. He joked, "Because I'm uke when we playact for the girls, right?"

Hikaru sniggered. "Maybe I could dress in a Prince Charming getup and we could improvise from there!"

Kaoru said softly, "You could steal me away from Tamaki. How entertaining!"

Kyouya, Hunny, and Mori were watching Kaoru with misgivings. There was discord.

Hikaru was making grand gestures in the air and pantomiming his half of a swordfight. "Of course, he'd have to believe that you were Haruhi before he'd fight me-"

Kaoru said almost wistfully, "Why not cut to the chase and steal Haruhi away? It'd make the whole thing more believable."

Hikaru froze, completely surprised. "What?" He had been the only person making noise, and when he stopped the silence was crushing.

Kaoru's eyes focused, the color drained from his face, and he touched his mouth.

Just in case it was trying to outwit him.

Without turning to Hikaru, Kaoru said, "I'm sorry," and walked to the door. Only one step was unsteady; the rest were more careful. The carpet all but obliterated the sound, but there wasn't much else to listen to.

Hikaru watched him go, slack-jawed. "What just happened?"

Kyouya had opened his notebook again. Hunny opened his mouth to help, but Mori covered it with one hand and stopped him.

Hikaru shook his head slowly. "That didn't just happen." He went faster. "It didn't." He stopped shaking his head and looked at the three who had become an uncomfortable audience. Once more, very calmly, he said, "It didn't."

None of them reacted.

Hikaru didn't bother walking out after Kaoru. He was running as fast as he could.

Kyouya made a small sound of annoyance when he found more magic words on his paper. Let your attention wander for a moment and words start popping up everywhere…

Hunny said, "I don't like this. I want everyone to have a happy ending."

Mori chose to share the wisdom of the ages and spoke. "Everyone will, except for Haruhi."

Hunny blinked at him. "Takashi, that's a horrible thing to say!"

"It's true."

"It is _not_! You're just being mean! Go down and apologize to Haruhi right now!"

Mori tilted his head. Haruhi didn't even know that he'd said anything. He lifted Hunny off his knee and began to leave, following orders.

Kyouya said, "The meeting is over. Please inform her that her duty is done for today."

Mori nodded his understanding and left.

Hunny turned to me. "You agree, right? Haruhi's going to have a happy ending!"

Kyouya drew two lines through the mystery phrase. "I'm confident that she will, Hunny. You'll research the crèmets?"

He saluted again and dashed off to find Mori, having apparently forgiven any transgression.

Kyouya watched out the window as Haruhi got the kite flying, tripped and fell directly on top of Tamaki. There was a Moment unfolding right in front of him.

Kyouya left the miscreant notebook open to his current page and went to retrieve his other things before leaving.

_Someone can't have a happy ending… _

* * *

Tamaki found him on the way out of the school. "Kyouya, Kyouya!"

Kyouya obligingly snapped his cell phone shut and turned back to him. "Yes?"

"You'll never believe how much my daughter and I bonded today!"

Kyouya put his phone in his pocket and removed his glasses. Rubbing them with a small cloth, he said, "I'm sure that I'm going to find out."

Tamaki said, "Our daughter said, 'Tamaki-sempai, I was hoping that we could fly a kite today. In my commoner neighborhood, there isn't enough space, so I don't know how. That field down there is perfect, though…' I can remember each word! They're engraved on my heart!"

Kyouya blinked owlishly and brought the world back into focus by replacing his glasses. "I was there for that part. That wasn't what she said."

Tamaki put down his imaginary pompoms and stared blankly at his best friend. "Really? I could've sworn that that's what she said… What, was I a few words off?"

Kyouya determined that the effort to convince Tamaki of Haruhi's actual words would be wasted and merely said, "Yes, just a few."

Tamaki smiled happily. "What are you doing right now?"

"I was about to call for a ride home when you interrupted me," Kyouya said, fishing the phone out of his pocket again to finish the task.

Tamaki wrapped both his hands around Kyouya's and the phone. "Wait! I'll give you a ride home. That way, we can talk! Don't you want to hear about Haruhi?"

"Or we could discuss the next Club theme," Kyouya suggested smoothly.

"Great! That too!" Tamaki said merrily, the prospect of time with Kyouya giving him, if anything, more energy. "And, and, on the way to your house, we can get ice cream! It'll be fun!"

Kyouya reclaimed his hand and dialed his cell phone, this time for Tamaki's chauffeur. After he had requested a ride, he looked at Tamaki, now giving a soliloquy on the subject of kite-flying techniques. "You know as well as I do that I have ice cream readily available at home. As do you. There is no need to make an extra stop, or to spend extra money."

Distracted from his topic, Tamaki put on hand over his heart and one in a sweeping gesture that encompassed the finer qualities of Freedom, Beauty, Truth, and Love, as well as a lurking bed of peonies to his left. "It will be so much better in an establishment, though, Kyouya! Our togetherness will strengthen our bond of friendship! Mother and Father must show a proper example for the children!"

Kyouya saw Tamaki's modest black Rolls Royce approaching them. Just for spite, he said absently, "You think that we aren't close enough already, Tamaki? Are you closer to other people?"

Tamaki was horrified. "We are! We are! We are the best of friends and I'm not closer to anyone – well, besides Mama, but you know – you're my most favorite person in all of Japan! Yes!"

The car stopped in front of them, and before he knew what was happening Tamaki had shoved him unceremoniously across the back seat and clambered in after him. When his head stopped spinning and he straightened his glasses, Kyouya got a close view of Tamaki's earnest face.

"Do you forgive me, then, Kyouya? Please? But I still want to go to ice cream with you, okay?"

Kyouya arranged his belongings stiffly – he hadn't closed his bag properly, it was a miracle his books weren't strewn across the car – and simply said, "Single scoop. Don't be wasteful."

Tamaki grinned broadly. "Yay! Hey, did you see Haruhi today? After the kite-flying, I mean. Her hair was so messy! She looked like a cat, only petted the wrong way – but, you know, really cute. You know?"

Kyouya nodded his understanding. "I did see. Out of a window, in fact. I was standing in an empty music room, in fact."

Tamaki smiled endearingly. "Yeah, I'm sorry about closing the Club early today…"

"It's fine. The others understood." It had been a very efficient strategy by Haruhi; make Tamaki believe that he knew why the Club was closed, and he wouldn't ask questions.

Tamaki was looking out the window now, and spotted what he was looking for. "There! Ice cream. That's where I want to go." He blinked and turned back to Kyouya. "I mean, we can, right?"

Kyouya studied him a moment and said, "You… are an interesting specimen, Tamaki."

Tamaki winked, and said, "Thanks. Race you to the counter, loser pays!" And then he was a blur of blue jacket and blond.

Kyouya almost yelled after him that it wasn't fair, since his door was on completely the other side of the car away from the store, but decided against it. What was a little money, really?

Besides, Ootori Kyouya did not yell. Or dash into a store without a scrap of dignity –

But exceptions could, apparently, be made.


	3. Real

Well. Beware: OC in this chapter. But she's not paired with anyone you know. She's just got to do with the theme.

* * *

Kyouya rubbed his temple thoughtfully, reading over the list he had made. Mori didn't have anything to contribute, Hunny was proposing some very promising dishes… They were making fine progress for having twenty days left and being full-time students. Kyouya could find no fault with them. 

"And you?" he asked the twins.

Kyouya had taken a chair and crossed his legs to set his notebook on his knee, and Mori had taken the one opposite his and let Hunny climb up. The twins had taken the couch between the chairs, and sat as close together as they could without touching. They both kept their elbows tight to their sides, and Kaoru stared at his hands.

Hikaru, as though he didn't know that he wasn't just as affectionate toward Kaoru as ever, said, "We were thinking of a design, but it's a bit advant-garde for our sensibilities. We'll settle on something and give you the order for it by Monday, alright?"

Kyouya pressed his lips together. Below his expectations.

He was ready to say so, and then the double-doors burst open to admit something blond and half-French.

Four people jumped, one of those instinctively grasping at another's sleeve before remembering not to touch.

The last of the five didn't turn around to the doors. He knew only one person who always opened both doors when entering a room. "Hello, Tamaki."

Tamaki hummed in confusion. "Why are all of you still here? It's been fifteen minutes since I asked for the Club to close."

Kyouya lied easily, "I was waiting to talk to you about the next club outing. Perhaps during the ride home."

Hikaru said, "We called our driver, but he hasn't gotten here yet." Kaoru's hand had dropped back to his lap to grip the bottom of his jacket.

Mori said, "Club activities."

Tamaki said, "Oh. Alright then. Anyway, I came back to get my things. I forgot them in here when Haruhi-kun asked to go for a hike in the mountains outside the grounds." He was crossing the room, to the smaller adjoined room where they kept their school things during Club hours. "But then Haruhi remembered that she needed to get home, but I won't let her use the train – I know what goes on there, I've read stories – and now I'm going to give her a ride home immediately."

Haruhi was right next to Kyouya's chair. He still hadn't turned to look. She whispered, "I'm really sorry. Tomorrow's the anniversary of when my mother died, and I'll be absent because Dad and I are going up to Mother's parent's house to spend the day with them. We're leaving today, so I need to get home…" She laughed, softly. "I did try to stop him from coming in here. I even swooned, like the twins told me to do in an emergency. It just made him want to take me home faster."

Kyouya said, "Comprehensible. He can be difficult to handle."

Tamaki was coming back. Kyouya saw the others' eyes following him back toward the door. Then, Haruhi wasn't behind him anymore.

She said, "Sorry," again.

Kyouya closed his eyes and Tamaki called merrily, "I'm sorry, Kyouya, I can't ride home with you today. Later, okay?"

And then the door was closed.

He said, "The meeting's over," and pulled out his phone to call his driver.

* * *

The bell rang. Economics was out. 

It was Friday, which meant that after lunch was Econ, and after Econ was Latin.

Latin was an interesting language. Kyouya had some difficulty with the diphthongs still, and at first had seen no use for a centuries-dead language.

However, he had discovered a use when reading over some contracts binding his father's company to a now-obsolete researching firm.

Latin was a legal favorite. Particularly when dealing with the United State and tariffs and… loopholes.

Yes, Kyouya enjoyed Latin. And Fridays in general.

Especially since, after discovering the use for Latin, Kyouya had put his mind to it and passed it at a college level.

So while the rest of the 2-A students (including a barely-conscious Tamaki) filed off to search for incredibly rare K's, Kyouya had a free period.

And he had a standing appointment.

He walked into a small, now-disused art classroom with authority. It was filled with small vases and lopsided candleholders, ruins that were the only remnants of a short-lived school-wide interest in glassblowing.

He turned on the lights silently, crossed to the locked cupboard, and pulled a key from his pocket.

From the innermost depths of the cupboard came a tablecloth, two sand-colored candles, and two tall, glass candleholders. These were not failed, overeager experiments; these were what happened when lightning struck a desert with a conveniently candle-shaped hole in the center.

Kyouya did not accept many clients, but he knew each one's tastes. This one liked glass; he provided glass.

Just as he was blowing out a match, a small figure was nearly swallowed by the doorway. "Kyouya-san, I'm sorry that I'm late."

He straightened, then dropped into a neat bow with an accommodating smile. "Please join me."

She had to inch past him in the cluttered little room, freckles standing out on red cheeks, glasses turning askew, murmuring apologies the entire time.

He deliberately kept himself from reacting when her dress' fabric caught on his pants just slightly or her long, brown braid brushed his shoulder. She was sincerely sorry each and every time, though.

Finally, she was sitting, and Kyouya moved to the other side of the less-than-decorous workman's table. He made sure that her glasses were framed by the candlelight, because then his eyes would be similarly complimented from her side.

He asked calmly, "How was your week, Shola-chan?"

She smiled demurely, and said happily, "It was good. Very good." She lifted her chin and the smile was more confident. "I told you about Lao Wen, didn't I?"

Kyouya resisted the instinct to dig out his notebook. It was barely more than a week old, it wouldn't have any Shola-related information in it.

He visualized the appropriate page, instead. Writing something down was as good as memorizing it. He read off, "Nicknamed Lion for a tendency to yell and short temper. Transferred into Ouran during his third year of middle school, from China."

Shola beamed, proud that someone like Kyouya had paid her life so much attention. "I told you that we were arranged to… to be married. When we were young. I was the one who first called him Lion, since I couldn't pronounce his name."

Kyouya nodded patiently. He had heard all of this before. But as long as he stayed neutral, she trusted him.

She said, "He told me he loved me!"

Shallow black eyes, reflecting the dancing fire, slowly slid closed.

"I was so unsure, for so long." Her voice was quiet again, her long eyelashes pressed against her cheekbones. "He always seemed angry with me because – well, because I'm weak."

Kyouya watched her shoulders slump inward, caught hoping for something she didn't deserve, and then frowned.

In Shola's second year of high school, before the Club was formed and before Kyouya knew her, a teacher had… assaulted her. Grievously. Lao Wen had found out, chosen his fists over his words as an initial reaction, turned the teacher over to the authorities, and taken over the major decisions in Shola's life.

Kyouya did a background check on every potential Club client, and paid special attention to those who applied for him. He had read the report of Shola and accepted her. He did know why she had applied for him, but it hadn't taken him long to work out a system for dealing with her.

If he didn't pass judgment on anything she did – either in the positive or negative – she was able to be herself more.

Shola fidgeted with her braid, now draped forward over her shoulder. "Always mad at me, for something I did or said that was wrong. Have you ever met him?"

"No," Kyouya answered truthfully. Having a profiler assess his personality was not the same as 'meeting' someone.

"He's really a good person," she said quickly. "He always takes care of me. He doesn't really get along with anyone else, but he's nice to me when we're alone…"

Kyouya said, "He makes you happy."

"Yes! Very, very happy!" she said. Then, she ducked her head down. "But I'm sorry, he said-"

"He said that you could no longer visit the Host Club," Kyouya said.

"Yes. I'm sorry, really sorry…."

"No," Kyouya said, reminding himself to relax his back and smile. "I understand. Do not apologize for doing something that makes you happy."

Shola nodded slowly, keeping her hands together in her lap.

Kyouya did take out his notebook, now, and wrote a few shorthand notes. Take his client off the list, be sure to settle the accounts, maybe research another girl… Troublesome. He disliked having a new client. It was inevitable, though.

Shola said, "Kyouya-kun, I want to thank you for accepting me as a client."

Kyouya looked up, snapped his notebook closed, and set it on the table. "It has been my pleasure."

"No, I mean… I don't know why you chose me, out of everyone who wants you as a host. I really…" she swallowed, "After what happened, I didn't think that I could be around anyone for long. Especially not a man. And Lion was really mad at the teacher, and I couldn't be around him without crying because he always yelled…"

"You're different now."

"I've learned to trust people again," she admitted. "But I couldn't have done that without you."

Kyouya leaned his back against the chair, crossing his legs under the table. "Shola-chan, may I ask why you applied to me?"

She blushed. "You're… you're handsome, and do everything perfectly…" she trailed off, and started again. "I thought that, of anyone, you wouldn't…"

Kyouya had an idea of what she meant. She needed to say it herself, though.

"You wouldn't base your opinion on me on the fact that I was raped," she whispered.

Kyouya nodded. "That is not who you are."

She looked up, through glasses that caught the firelight. The candles were half-used already. "Why did you accept me?"

"I needed a way to fill my free period," he said thoughtfully.

She looked down again.

"And I had never observed someone change from the person I entertained the first day to the person I'm looking at now." He stood, rounded the table, and took her hand to help her stand. Honestly, he said, "You are on the verge of finding your happiness. Congratulations."

She blushed, resolutely pushed her braid behind her, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, and scooted awkwardly around him toward the door.

When she pushed open the door, she was rubbing her eyes. A person out of Kyouya's line of sigh touched the side of her head, and she looked up at him – definitely Lion, no one else was allowed to touch her – and then Shola was apologizing again and glancing back and waving as the door closed.

Kyouys stood in the cluttered little classroom for a few moments.

He blew out the candles, put them back in the cupboard with the candleholders, folded the tablecloth, gathered his school things, and left.

He would have to tell someone to gather those things, later.

And he might consider giving the classroom's key back to the school.

Maybe not, though.

* * *

Tamaki was stretched out on the soft lawn of the Ootori grounds, hands behind his head, looking up at the sky. 

"Shola and Lion, from the class above us, right?"

"Correct." Kyouya was sitting on the bench, placed in the garden for the expressed purposed of being sat on, like a normal person. He was reading through client applications. There had been a windfall after the girls had learned that Shola's place was empty.

Tamaki pushed his chin up, looking at Kyouya upside-down. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in perfect health."

"No, I mean about Shola. You liked her."

"I didn't feel an attraction to her."

Tamaki pouted, willing him to be less dense. "_No_, but you liked her. She was one of your favorites." He looked around at the garden, all the flowers staring contentedly at the sun. "Like how your sister likes gardening so much. She doesn't fall in love with her flowers, but she really likes them anyway. You're like that."

Kyouya shifted his shoulders. "It is better for her this way."

"Yeah." Tamaki smiled brightly at him, then relaxed his neck and looked back up at the sky. "She's found her happy ending. Everyone deserves to."

"Yes."

Kyouya just didn't know where his would come from.


	4. Life

And here is the chapter that I have wanted to write for a very long time. Yes, that's right; there is a marriage proposal. And molested glasses.

And one of those statements is a lie.

* * *

Kyouya checked off items on his agenda for the seventh. 

Hunny had drawn up a menu that was both aesthetically and alimentarily pleasing, and was prepared to place orders and print copies when required. Mori, yet again, had only to wait for his time. The twins…

…The twins hadn't moved from their languorous sprawl across the couch since the Club had opened that day. Hikaru lay on his back, one arm on the back of the couch and the other around his brother's waist, while Kaoru was face-down, head on his brother's chest and lightly dozing. All of their legs tangled together and became indistinguishable further down.

The clients had been left to serve their own tea and occupy themselves.

Not that they had appeared to mind overmuch, once Kyouya introduced cameras in exchange for a small monetary investment.

Kyouya said, "If one of you is awake, would he tell me of your progress?"

Hikaru's head – Kyouya could distinguish between them from the murmured conversations throughout the day – rolled slightly. "Kaoru found an amazing flower-and-water pattern. We looked into it, and Mom's company will give us a discount. Twenty percent off."

Kyouya made a note to examine the budget and compare it to last year's.

Twenty percent.

…Acceptable.

"Very well. We're finished here," Kyouya said.

Hikaru said, "Great. Someone go rescue Haruhi from Tamaki and his plot to make her…" he trailed off, yawned, and mumbled, "um, what are they doing?"

Kaoru was frowning, but his voice was soft and sleepy. "I know that you suggested squirrel hunting."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"Yes. It went over quite well."

"Did they do it?"

"No, but Tamaki is now convinced that we're a terrifying new kind of two-piece Antichrist."

"Oh. Good. Was I sleeptalking, do you think?"

"You're very eloquent when you're unconscious."

"Yes, wherever does that go?"

"I steal it. That's why I'm better at essays."

Hikaru mumbled something more quietly than before. Kaoru lifted his head away and tried to dry off the outside of his ear.

Hunny said, "I think they went with pottery. North wing, third floor."

Kyouya nodded and packed his school supplies into his bag. "I will notify her of her freedom. Hunny and Mori, you have other club activities, do you not?"

They both confirmed this and began to gather their own things.

On his way out the door, Kyouya said, "And, Hitachiins; if you violate any local indecent exposure ordinances in your post-conflict zeal – _and are caught_ – you will be faced with the most literal interpretation of the phrase 'thrown under the bus'."

They were sniggering to each other as the door closed.

Kyouya took out his cell phone and clacked through his contacts until he arrived at a familiar name. He walked down the stairs as he waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" Haruhi said, through a bit of wire and at least one satellite.

"Haruhi-kun. Our meeting is over; you may excuse yourself whenever you see fit."

"Ah. Alright, I understand." In the background, Tamaki was giving a dramatic lecture on proper cuteness levels while answering a phone. "Maybe another fifteen minutes?"

"So long?" Kyouya was walking across the open courtyard toward the north wing.

Haruhi laughed, with a small hint of giggle. "I didn't expect watching wet clay spinning until it falls over to be so entertaining!"

Tamaki was silent, now. He might very well have passed out.

Kyouya asked, "May I speak with Tamaki?"

Haruhi said, "Sure. Be quick, though. I only get a certain amount of minutes a month."

There was a soft sound, and Kyouya judged by the muffled grunt that the phone had been instrumental in rousing Tamaki. In the head.

"Owwwello?" Tamaki answered. Despite his pain, his greeting was bright by the end.

"Tamaki, you have a choice."

"Kyouya…? Is there ice cream involved?"

"No. You may either continue your activities with Haruhi, or I will give you a ride home now." He was walking up the stairs to the third floor.

"Um? I could get my driver to bring Haruhi home, too, at the same time…"

Kyouya stopped outside the pottery room. "Is that your decision?"

"Um! Wait, what'll happen if I go with you?"

"Decide quickly." Kyouya clicked his phone off.

He counted the seconds, staring at the door. When he was at ten, he turned on his heel and went back the way he had come.

When he was halfway down the hallway, Tamaki fell out of the door. "Kyouya!"

Kyouya stopped and turned.

"I'll go with you. But! You have to have a sleepover with me."

Kyouya blinked. "Doesn't Haruhi-kun mind?"

Tamaki suddenly realized that this might be important. He looked into the room with an expression of abject horror.

Haruhi came out, untying her heavy, caked-with-clay apron. "I don't mind. I promise. Some other time, maybe. Or we could even have it as a Club activity."

Tamaki looked back at Kyouya. "So there. Sleepover?"

Walking away again, Kyouya brought up his cell phone to tell the head of house maintenance staff that, should anyone inquire, he would be at the Suoh residence until the next day.

* * *

Kyouya sat in the backseat, writing. If there was going to be a sleepover, there would be no homework accomplished while at home. 

Tamaki sat next to him, looking out the window vacantly, and frowning at passing girls.

After they were well away from the school, Tamaki looked at his friend with a cautious, hopeful smile. "Do you feel better, now?"

Kyouya put his notebook away. "I was not aware that I felt badly."

"You gave me a choice."

"I often give you choices. It _is_ your club."

"Not that kind of choice." Tamaki turned back to the window. With a measure of sadness that held no place in Tamaki's voice, he added, "The next time you're lonely, just tell me. Don't let me hurt you, okay? I don't want that."

Kyouya didn't say anything to this.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

It was midnight. 

Kyouya was sitting against the wall, using the moonlight to scribble quickly. He had tried the desk and the lamp; Tamaki had come in and scolded him for wanting the keep his top position.

So, Ootori Kyouya was limited to more natural resources.

He was finishing an expository essay on crime and punishment. He wasn't even thinking too hard about it; he simply knew that he had approximately ten minutes before the moon sank too low to be of any use.

The door opened with a soft click. Blonde hair caught the faint light and Tamaki whispered, "Kyouya? You're not in your bed…"

"Under the window."

"Oh…" he crept around the bed to the other side of the room, and then tripped over Kyouya's ankle and fell into the bedside table. "Ouch! Ow, ow, ow. Ouchies… That hurt."

"Move more carefully in the dark."

"It hurt my toe, and my wrist…"

"How sad for you."

"Kiss it and make it better, please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I'm not going to kiss your toe."

"Just my wrist, then?"

"Why should I?"

"…Because I would do it for you?"

"Would I ever need you to? I am not so foolish as to blunder about at midnight."

There was a sensation of closeness. Kyouya assumed that Tamaki had put his wrist up.

He set his notebook aside and brought his hand up to find Tamaki's arm, but all he found was a chin.

He frowned. "Tamaki."

"Yes, Kyouya?"

He could feel the breath hitting his nose. "Why is _your_ face so close to _my_ face?"

"I can see your glasses. Sort of. It's darker than before, I think."

"The moon has set."

"I'm just wondering; if you can't see very well in moonlight no matter what, why would you still wear your glasses?"

"Force of habit. Without them, I can't see at all."

"Can I take them off?"

"For what purpose?"

"No purpose. The symbolism of the thing."

"If you must."

"Yay." Carefully, Tamaki's fingers walked up from Kyouya's neck to his ears, and then tugged the glasses away. They clanked heavily in the still room.

Tamaki twisted around and settled against the wall next to Kyouya.

"Why are you in here?"

"…What?"

"It's midnight. You burned through your sugar high an hour ago. Why are you awake, in my room, and molesting my glasses?"

"Oh." He slid down until his shoulder pressed into another.

"Tamaki. Focus."

"Yes?"

"Why are you here?"

"Because…" He moved against Kyouya. Shrugging. "Because you're here."

"No other reason?"

He set his ear on Kyouya's shoulder, soft hair to the curve of a straight neck. "I am here because you are my best friend."

Kyouya looked at the little pool of skimped and saved light, at the very apex of the curve of his glasses so far away.

Soon, Tamaki was sleeping. He was probably smiling, too. Tamaki always smiled.

A great deal of time passed, and Kyouya let his head rest against the wall.

He might have fallen in love with Tamaki.

…How inconvenient.


	5. Is

"Kyouya, Kyouya!" Tamaki yelled from across the Club's busy room.

Kyouya stopped writing out 'seven days' and looked up. "Tamaki."

"Haruhi-kun-the-Extremely-Superly-Cute invited me to bumper cars! She says that there's a 'circus'-thing near her home right now and they let people hit each other with cars!"

Kyouya looked back down at his figures. "Would you like to close the Club early and go?"

Tamaki had sprinted closer in his youthful zeal and now blinked at him. "Well – that, too. Also, would you like to come with us?"

Kyouya, in all his calculations, had given this possibility no more than one seventh-of-a-percent chance. He hadn't prepared a response. "–With you?"

"Yes, yes! We shall bump cars! It'll be amazingly fun!"

Kyouya mentally thumbed through the pages of his recreational reading until he arrived at a description of 'bumper cars'. An electric apparatus designed to train the nation's youth to drive badly and thirst for violence.

He said, "No."

Tamaki pouted. "Why not?"

"First. I do not want to bump cars with you _or_ Haruhi-kun. Second. I will not enter into competition with you. Third. I have other activities to which I must apply myself."

"Like wha-at?" Tamaki whined, crestfallen.

"Supporting _your_ Club."

"Ours. And besides that."

"I've scheduled 'existing in a non-car-bumping way' for the next two weeks solid."

"Awww. Alright… bye, then. And sorry about closing the Club."

Kyouya penciled in a reminder to actually find Tamaki a present as Tamaki and a girl who looked suspiciously similar to a Host Club member wafted out the door.

Go with them? Really. Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?

Also, Kyouya had a party to organize.

The twins leaned against him, one shoulder each. "Is our little Shadow-chan lonely?"

"Your orders. Were they filled to your satisfaction?" Kyouya asked.

"Yep."

"On time and under-budget."

"That's all taken care of."

"Let's talk about _you_, hmm?"

Kyouya said, "I am on task."

"No."

"We mean about this Tamaki problem of yours."

Kyouya snapped his notebook closed and lifted his chin to look straight ahead. "There is nothing wrong with Tamaki."

"Also our Haruhi."

"They're together a lot, these days."

"Makes no sense, though."

"Sending them forth to multiply and everything."

"On purpose."

"Knowing what'll happen."

"You do _know_ what'll happen, don't you?"

Kyouya said, "Haruhi-kun is completing her duties with efficiency. And has apparently managed to do so without becoming distracted by other people's affairs."

"That's not nice."

"We're not distracted."

"As such."

"And she's become a bit tangled up in _your_ affairs, hasn't she?"

"Maybe it doesn't count if they're her affairs, too, Hikaru-my-love."

Hikaru said, "Well, that seems a bit exclusionary, doesn't it, Kaoru-my-own?"

Kaoru said, "It does indeed."

"Very unfair."

"O Master of Poker-Face-ed-ness, care to cut us in?"

"Yes, do tell."

"The dirty little secrets."

"Don't think that you need to spare us."

"Even if it gets a bit explicit."

"We're big boys."

"We can handle it."

Kyouya walked forward, taking his shoulders from their grasp. "There are no 'dirty little secrets'."

Kaoru kept pace with him. Hikaru materialized a few feet in front, heading them off.

"Come on. You spent the night at his house last week, right?"

"_Something_ must have happened."

"A challenge to a duel, perhaps."

"We mean, really, it could have been _from_ anyone _to_ anyone at this point."

"You're giving off really weird vibes."

"Do you like Haruhi?"

Kyouya stopped. With all of the ice that he reserved for less-than-overt, more-than-covert threats, he said, "Haruhi-kun is a friend."

"Bor-ing."

"We can tell."

"You get all weird."

"But it doesn't make sense."

"You specifically ask her to woo our King, and then you get all...you know."

"Pissy."

"Uptight."

"...Jealous."

"That's the word, Kaoru."

"It is."

Both of them hummed it, close to his ears. "_You're jealous._"

"I am not jealous of anyone."

Hikaru, on his right. "Liar."

Kaoru, on his left. "Pants on fire."

"We can _tell_."

Hesitation. Kaoru crept slightly closer, dropped his voice slightly lower. "_I_ can tell."

Hikaru raised his chin up stiffly. This was not intended. "Kaoru-"

"I mean that you're acting like I did before."

"My-own, we don't have to tell him."

They looked at each other across Kyouya. He carefully stared ahead, writing himself out of the situation with surgical precision and acting as a neutral barrier.

Kaoru moved his head to the right, leading with his cheekbone, and offered, "It's only fair."

Hikaru closed his eyes, opened them looking toward the wall of windows, and followed his brother's lead. "We'll show you ours if you show us yours first."

Kaoru said sadly, "No."

"We can show him ours first, then."

Kyouya said, "I am not curious about your internal struggles. And I have no problem to bargain against your offer."

Hikaru scoffed. "Of course you do."

Kaoru said, "I can tell."

"Kaoru can tell."

"It takes one to know one."

Their rapidfire pace was slipping. "You're...You're pretending. Like Kaoru was."

Kaoru said, in a whisper that his brother might not have been able to hear, "You're untrue."

Hikaru said, "So. You say you don't like our Haruhi. It's Tamaki, then, right?"

Smoothly, just as he had been rehearsing ever since that unfortuitous epiphany, Kyouya said, "No."

"Then there's nothing for it."

"You like Haruhi."

"For definite."

Kyouya said, "I do not like anyone. Particularly not anyone who has a prying disposition."

"We're hurt."

"You've hurt our feelings."

"Are you happy now?"

"You brute."

Sternly, unruffled, Kyouya suggested, "If you are prepared, I require nothing further from you. You are free to go."

"Fine."

"Be that way."

"We'll be around, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on."

"Or want to play a prank on someone unsuspecting."

"You know. For revenge."

Kyouya ignored them until they sauntered off. When he looked around, Mori and Hunny were in one of the windowseats, and Hunny was instucting Mori on the finer techniques of baby-holding, using his Bun-Bun as a model.

"No, the top of the head. It's the heaviest part. Grab it, with a big, splayed, grabby hand. Like that. And the feet, too, must be hard for babies to hold their feet up. So. Mostly with your fingers, by the top of the head and the ankles. Okay?"

Mori was holding Bun-Bun like a book obediently.

"Have you learned it properly?"

"Yes."

"Neat. Give him back, now, okay?"

Mori gave back the stuffed rabbit.

"Yay!"

Kyouya said, "Hunny-sempai, are you on-schedule?"

Hunny peeked out through the opening of the fort he had just made with only his own ingenuity, a pink blanket, and the crook of Mori's arm. "Well. I was calling around for prices, and then I just asked my family's cook and he 'knows some people' - I told him that I know people, too, and isn't that fun when you know people? - and then he said that he can find me a friend of his willing to give me a discount and I'm going to to talk to him again tonight."

Kyouya said, "Very well. If you cannot find someone by tomorrow, inform me and I will make arrangements."

Hunny raised his hand.

Kyouya called on him.

"Will you tell Takashi to stop being so depressing?"

Kyouya lifted his eyes to Mori and said blandly, "Please stop being depressing, Mori-sempai."

"No, I mean, can you get him to stop saying that our Haru-chan isn't going to have a happy ending."

Kyouya said, in the same tone, "Please stop saying that Haruhi-kun will not have a happy ending, Mori-sempai."

"No, you have to give _reasons_, too. Like a lawyer."

Kyouya took a few seconds to gather his thoughts and then said, carefully keeping the same uninvested tone, "Haruhi-kun will have a happy ending. Tamaki will make sure of that." He debated over his next sentence, and then said, "Everyone will have a happy ending - that is how the world works."

Hunny nodded merrily, satisfied, and clambered down Mount Mori to collect his things, understanding the meeting to be over.

Mori leaned forward, close to Kyouya, and said seriously, "Where will your happy ending come from?"

Kyouya tilted his head, looked Mori over speculatively, and then let go of his train of thought and watched Hunny again. "Clearly, I don't live in the same world as 'everyone'."

He started to walk away, and said over his shoulder, mildly pleased with himself, "I live in the real one."

Seven days until the party.

* * *

Just a disclaimer: Don't ever, _ever_ hold a baby like Hunny says. It is _not good_. Very very not good.

And... the end is nigh. I think. It should be, unless something major happens and adds fifty more chapters. and a sequel. (As has been known to happen...)


	6. Implicated

I've been thinking over what to say here for six months...or, since whenever I posted the first chapter, knowing that it was going to end on this particular day and be for your birthday and you wouldn't know and it would be amazinglyawesomelysuperbly _win_.

...And that's about as far as I got every time.

* * *

The world flashed from dark to light, and everyone yelled, "Surprise!" 

Tamaki's blue eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What?"

Kyouya was leaning against the wall next to the door, slightly behind Tamaki. "It's your birthday today."

Tamaki considered this. "Is it?"

"Yes."

"I'm confused. I thought it was October."

"No. April eighth. Your birthday."

"Just lost track of the months, I suppose."

"They do change quite often."

"Hey, though. Yay! Birthday!" Tamaki threw up his hands and ran forward into the room.

Kyouya walked forward after him. The bulky furniture had been moved to the edges of the room to make way for The Cake.

It was taller than Hunny – who had tried twice to scale it for the prize on the uppermost layer, two candles which displayed Tamaki's age. Vanilla, with strawberry syrup and ice cream to cement the layers together. Hunny had pitched the idea to Kyouya with extreme enthusiasm, and then, when Kyouya said that they wouldn't be able to eat it all, had casually mentioned just how many black belts he had earned.

The vague pink of The Cake was complemented by darker purple-and-royal-blue designs on the tablecloth, chairs – even small boutonnières for each of them, with matching false petals.

And behind The Cake, so that she appeared slowly like the rising of the moon, was Haruhi.

The twins had designed and fitted a short, cute dress that suited the decorations specially for her. She was dazzling.

Tamaki's attention focused on exactly what Kyouya had forcast.

"Oh, my adorable daughter! Come to Daddy!"

The twins grinned at Kyouya, arms crossed accrss their chests. It could even be described as leering.

Kyouya sat down at one of the chairs at the round table. It was relatively small, set for seven. _No grand, overlarge table for us, no sir_ (Hunny had demanded); _we're a family, we'll eat like one._

Yes, a family.

A very involved, mildly incestuous family.

Kyouya smiled at his own thought.

Tamaki and Haruhi had withdrawn into a far corner, talking with heads bent close, very quietly and steadily.

Kyouya's smile wasn't extremely large.

The twins were sneaking fingerfuls of frosting off The Cake and feeding them to each other.

Barely more than a curl of the lips.

Huny, after the adrenaline rush of the welcome, had curled up on Mori's lap like a kitten.

Could hardly be called a smile, frankly.

He sat there, scribbling little things in his notebook. There are always things to be written down.

While Kyouya was busy, Tamaki and Haruhi let their conversation end. Haruhi put a hand on one of Tamaki's cheeks and kissed the other quickly, and then meandered away. Tamaki stayed where he was.

Not that Kyouya noticed.

Haruhi came to the table and sat, picking at little finger-sized bites of white fudge. With her mouth full, she mumbled, "You're a very good actor, Kyouya-sempai."

Kyouya said, "If this is a _dramatis persona_, I shudder to think of the real me."

"So do I, a little," Haruhi agreed warmly, "but he doesn't."

"Hmm?" Kyouya hummed, feigning flagging interest.

Haruhi didn't buy into this. Without the bemusedly-avoiding-the-issue tone, she said baldly, "Go talk to him. To wish him happy birthday, at least."

Kyouya inclined his head a little, and then stood to circle around the table and avoid the rather _imaginative_ twins on his trek to the corner.

He sat down on the carpet next to his friend.

Tamaki was fiddling with the ribbon holding a small bouquet of yellow roses, striped carnations, and pear blossoms together.

When Kyouya waited in silence, Tamaki said thoughtfully, "Do you know the flower language?"

Kyouya said, "Rudimentarily. Major, popular symbolism only. You're speaking of the meanings assigned to flora in the Victorian Era, are you not?"

"Yeah." Tamaki brought the flowers up to smell them. "I got a little more training in it than you, growing up with Maman." He offered the bouquet to Kyouya. "Would you like to know what these mean?"

"I know that yellow roses mean platonic love or friendship," Kyouya said, politely smelling them. "Not the others."

Tamaki brought them back and smiled at them with his eyes. "Striped carnations are refusal, and pear blossoms are lasting friendship."

Kyouya's fingers itched to hold a pen and write anything down, if only to have the excuse to look away. "Who gave them to you?"

"Our daughter."

"Ah."

"It's a kind of rejection."

"Yes."

"I was rejected without knowing that I had confessed anything."

"Perhaps she is one small step more observant than you are," Kyouya mused aloud.

"I don't know," Tamaki said, smiling nearly happily. He took a deep breath and confessed, "I don't know a lot. She told me some things, though."

"What sort of things were those?"

"Things about you."

Kyouya's heart wanted to skip a beat, and his breath wanted to hitch. He came very close to thinking of what she would have told Tamaki, how much.

But none of those things happened, because most of Kyouya's world depended on how well he knew the others, and he knew Haruhi.

"How kind of her."

"It wasn't anything specific, if it makes you feel better," Tamaki said earnestly. "Just things. I kind of knew them already - or I should have. I think."

Kyouya's fingers were habitually curling as if he were writing. When he noticed, he stopped them.

He wasn't going to ask Tamaki _what_ Haruhi had said. If Tamaki wanted to tell him, he would.

Tamaki looked at Kyouya for a while, and then nodded and looked at his pretty little rejection flowers. "Didn't I say that you have to tell me when you're lonely?"

"I wasn't lonely."

"Fine. You weren't. Just - the things I can tell about you, when you're sad, or tired, like that. _I_ might think that I can always tell, but isn't it just as likely that I only notice sometimes and don't know that I'm missing anything?"

Kyouya shook his head, looking away.

"So. That's all, really. Happy birthday to me."

Kyouya reached into his bag and took out a thin, flat, rectangular object wrapped neatly in the purple-and-blue that matched the party, and then handed it to his friend. "Yes. Happy birthday."

Tamaki perked up immediately. "Hooray for presents!" He tore the corner, enough to see pages, and stopped. "Aw. It'd be more soggy if there was ice cream in here, I guess."

"Just open it, Tamaki."

Tamaki pulled the rest off in a few quick motions that nevertheless sent a small snowstorm of wrapping paper up.

He blinked his present. "It's a...notebook."

Kyouya looked at it with him, as though he had never seen it before, nor felt the sting of its betrayal.

Tamaki flipped through the pages. "It's a _used_ notebook."

He flipped all the way back to the inside of the cover page. There, in a column by the top right corner, it read: "Property of Ootori Kyouya."

Tamaki sucked in a breath, and it stayed trapped in his chest. Eventually, he breathed out, and murmured, "Kyouya, I can't take this."

"If you don't want it, I could look for a more suitable gift," Kyouya said easily.

"Well...no, that's not it." Tamaki held the notebook to his chest and cradled it there with both arms. "You just - do you have any idea - this is like a part of you!"

"I thought it appropriate."

"Oh."

"If it isn't -"

"No. No, it's fine. I'm - Thank you, Kyouya. Really. It means... a lot. I'm just...going to go have this bronzed, and I'll meet you by the cremets, yes? Only I've had my eye on them, and those twins are deliberately eating them at me, and you know how they're my favorite."

Tamaki disappeared at an excited canter.

Kyouya continued sitting, back toward the party, looking at the inside of his glasses and considering taking up smoking to suppress the urge to move his fingers.

Soft footsteps. Kyouya knew that it wasn't Tamaki again, and ruled out the Second Coming soon after. "Haruhi-kun."

She crouched down on her toes next to him. "I'm sorry for telling him. Only, he didn't realize with me, and those were his own feelings. Maybe he wouldn't ever have noticed about you."

"I understand. It was an efficient plan."

"I mean, I had to translate things into Flower to get him to understand."

"He has trouble with concepts that can't be expressed at his intelligence level."

She giggled, and then glanced back to where Tamaki was sliding the notebook into his bookbag with a kind of reverence. "Is that your present? What'd you give him?"

"A notebook."

"How very Kyouya of you."

"_My_ notebook."

"Oh." She looked back again, and then shrugged. "You move fast."

"I discovered the nature of my feelings for him more than fourteen days ago. I prize efficiency."

"Hmm. You know, according to that, you're technically behind schedule, I bet."

Kyouya studied her amused smile for any subtext. "Mori asked me recently where my happy ending would come from."

Haruhi laughed. "Oh. He did that with you, too? Did you say something like 'Screw happy endings, I have money'?"

"Words to that effect. You?"

"Well, obviously, everyone's going to have a happy ending sometime. It's just not always _right now_, and it doesn't always have to be _ever after_."

"You sound like Tamaki."

"At least I can be more articulate."

Kyouya arranged himself in a standing position and pushed up his glasses. He didn't start back to the party, yet. "If this happens, where does yours come from?"

She blinked. "Use your head, Kyouya-sempai. Not everyone falls in True Love in high school. I've got thirty years yet before I'm halfway done, haven't I?"

"Ah. Yes. Excuse me, my mistake."

"Shame on you." She led the way back, and said over her shoulder, "And good luck."

* * *

"Tama-chan, Tama-chan! How was your birthday? Did you have fun?" 

They were all going home together, piled up in Mori's limosine. Because there wasn't really enough room for seven, Hunny and Kaoru had bitten the bullet and volunteered to sit on other members' laps. Hikaru had somehow maneuvered himself on top, however, leaning over Kaoru in the corner of the seats closest to the driver.

Tamaki smiled at Hunny's question and winked. He brought out his hand and counted off on his fingers. "Well. I forgot about it in the first place, and then I was preemptively refused, and then my best friend gave me a bit of his soul. But - and this is the best part - The Cake was _amazing_, Hunny. So, overall, I'd say my birthday was pretty fantastic."

Hunny beamed and then swiveled around to tell Mori what he must have missed, listening from way up there.

Tamaki was on the end of the straight back row of seats, and stared out the window, tapping out scales and cadences against his thigh.

Kyouya was next to him, and Haruhi on the other side.

They were having an argument.

Haruhi took Kyouya's hand in hers. When he looked over, completely surprised, she moved her eyebrows meaningfully and looked at their joined hands, Kyouya, and Tamaki.

Kyouya attempted, by way of an icy glare, to impress upon her just _how_ fast he was willing to move.

This exchange was repeated, in different forms, for ten minutes.

In the end, Haruhi tried to mimic Tamaki's pouty face and Kyouya conceded based on effort.

He took a moment to shut out the world and define a plan of action, and then used a single movement to slip his hand under Tamaki's and pull them both down to lie on the seat between them comfortably.

Tamaki turned his head around to investigate, and followed Kyouya's arm up to his face. He beamed. "By the way, Kyouya. Thanks. For planning all this, I mean."

Kyouya said, "I utilized the abilities of all the members."

"Yeah. And thanks, all of you - _Hikaru! Kaoru!_ Let me see both of your hands! No, I meant all four of them, and you know it! - but mostly Kyouya because we all know he doesn't like doing things without any of the girls around to watch."

Kyouya felt an urge to move his fingers coming on, so he pulled his hand away and began to look for his bag and his notebook.

And he wrote absolutely meaningless things for the rest of the ride, not looking up again once.

* * *

The limo dropped them both off at Kyouya's house. Or, Tamaki climbed out after Kyouya, uninvited. 

Kyouya went directly to his room, without looking back or acknowledging Tamaki's presence at all. Tamaki followed after, greeting all of the Ootori servants loudly and passing the time of day with them.

When they were both inside the two-story bedroom, Tamaki was quiet as Kyouya put his school things aside and changed into a more comfortable shirt.

And then Kyouya asked, "Is there something you need, Tamaki?"

Tamaki said, "I didn't mean to make you mad. What I said - about the girls. I'm sorry."

Kyouya took off his glasses and wiped them, looking at a blurrier version of Tamaki. "Apology accepted. Was there anything else?"

The blond nodded, and then looked up and around and tried to nonchalantly sidle closer to Kyouya.

Kyouya watched him do it, replacing his glasses and waiting in silence.

When Tamaki decided he was close enough, he was less than a foot away. The only thing Kyouya could focus on was his nose at eye-level.

"Tamaki, what are you doing?"

Tamaki's nose said, "I'm thanking you properly."

A long hand slid along Kyouya's jaw and tilted it up so that Tamaki's eyes said, "Ne? Kyouya-hime?" with a charming, I'm-very-nearly-joking lilt.

Kyouya knocked on Tamaki's head with the second knuckles of his index and ring fingers. "Don't treat me like a client."

Tamaki crouched down, with hands over his head, tears in his eyes, lower lip out in a pout.

Kyouya sighed and beckoned for him to stand. Tamaki did, adding an extra bounce on his toes.

Long, warm arms fell down around Kyouya's shoulders. That nose was rubbing against a spot under Kyouya's ear, now.

He said sternly, "Not like a client."

Tamaki smiled, and Kyouya felt the other boy's skin stretch through the contact against his chin.

And then, lip to lip, Tamaki promised, "I won't let you feel lonely anymore."

So Kyouya smiled, too.

Here was his happy ending, then. It hadn't gone anywhere to be found again, after all.

* * *

Oh God. Ew. Hate the ending. It's nasty and sugary and it makes me feel oozy just to write it. (Not one for fluff.) 

But, hey.

Happy Birthday, Adi.


End file.
